Knock Knock

2024 - V. Salvador.

It's been several years since my brothers suicide. I still think of him regularly. I pour a shot out for him on the anniversary and his birthday. I'm telling you this because I was the one who found him in his apartment. I knew he was depressed but as far as I and anyone else knew, he was receiving proper care. He had a support system, my sister and I made it a point to stop by for meals or to just chat. He worked from home and didn't get out much. We always joked he just needed to meet the right person. Anyways all this to say his death surprised us. Our parents have been dead for quite some time. Mom was in a car accident the summer before my freshman year in high school, then dad took his own life shortly after I graduated college. I'm 34 now. My sister is 38 and my brother would have turned 36 less than a week ago. For his birthday I did my usual tradition. Video called my sister Lydia, we had a couple drinks and spoke for a while about life and eventually after a few drinks we got to talking about Shawn. We like to imagine what our brother would be doing if he were alive today. It's silly but we both always knew he was special. He would have gone far if not for the circumstances.

We got done around 9pm, she had to take her sons to school in the morning so we said our so longs, and I got up to go pour my brother a shot. I walked over to the little “shrine” I keep for my brother. It has some memorabilia. Photos, the watch I got him for the last birthday he was alive to receive it. I kept my brother's journals too. His therapist said it would be good for him to keep a collection of his day to day. My sister said we should burn them, saying it wouldn't be right to hold onto them. That even though Shawn is dead his thoughts should still remain private. I of course never opened them, I couldn't bring myself to destroy any of the things he left behind. Even now most of his stuff sits in the storage area above my bedroom. I live alone so it's not like anybody can complain about it taking up space. I'm getting off topic though. A few nights ago was my brother's birthday. I was getting ready to pour out his shot and before I could even uncork the bottle I heard a knock at my door. I thought it was strange. I wasn't expecting visitors and it was after 9pm. My apartment building has quiet hours, since it's a senior living home. I was able to get this place because the landlord was friends with my dad way back, and wanted to do something to repay him for something. I forget the reason honestly. I was just glad to get off my sister's couch and into my own place.

When I checked the peep hole the hallway was empty. I unbolted the door and peaked out into the hallway. Nothing. I didn't know what to make of it at the time so I chalked it up to being tired and more than a little tipsy. I shut and bolted the door and got back to my brother. One shot for him and half a dozen more for me. The next thing I remember is waking up with Satan screwing my brains out, giving me a headache from hell. There was a taste of blood coating my mouth. After poking around with my tongue a bit I found I had mysteriously lost my right canine tooth. I'll admit to not being the most hygienic guy. Flossing was something I rarely if ever did and the chain smoking I did in my early 20’s didn't help that. But I had been to the dentist recently and aside from the usual “you need to floss more” I had no cavities. I thought I must have blacked out, fallen over, and just knocked my tooth out. I looked as best I could for the tooth but figured it wound up underneath something and gave up. Thought that was that, and I went to work later that day. I tried my best not to smile. I was already self concious of my yellow teeth so this was the last thing I needed.

I got home that night just after 10pm, completely exhausted. I put my key in the door and when I went to turn it the door was already unlocked. I swear I remembered locking it. Whatever I thought, I was probably too focused on my missing tooth that I just thought I locked it. Stupid but I was too tired to care. As soon as I got inside and shut the door, I was about to lock it when someone knocked on my door again. I immediately swung open the door and it was Tom, my landlord. Rent was due and I hadn't dropped it off on my way to work so he came to grab it when he knew I'd be getting home. He's a nice enough guy but I swear he spends too much time watching the cameras in the building. I asked him if he was in my apartment today and he said no, he hadn't gotten around to fixing my AC yet, which wasn't what I was asking but I just let it go. Anyways I gave him the envelope with this months rent and he said he would check my AC ASAP and I just shut the door, bolted it, and got in the shower

Later on I was eating dinner on the couch. Nothing fancy, stouffer's if you must know. It's around midnight at this point when I get another knock on my door. Thinking it was strange that Tom came back to check my AC, I walked to the door and opened it. I was halfway through asking if he could come back in the morning before I stopped mid-sentence. The hallway was empty. Not a person in sight. I looked up and down the hallway, nothing. This time I got nervous. I closed the door, locked it and sat back down on the couch. I didn't have an appetite anymore. I tried to fall asleep but every time I would start to drift off I would think I heard another knock on the door. After an hour or so I got up and stood staring at the door. Hand ready to open it and catch whoever it was that's been harassing me. The knock never came. Eventually I must have wandered over to the couch and passed out. I woke up to find my front door wide open. That was it. I knew something had to be done.

I went and found Tom in his office. I told him someone's been knocking on my door at night and asked if I could see the footage from the previous 12 hours. He said yeah and sat me down to watch the tapes. The cameras were set up to have one at each end of the hallway, the one closest to my apartment could just barely see the door. The handle poked out just enough so you can see it turn and open but you can't see inside my apartment. We started watching just after Tom left with the rent. The hallway stayed empty until around 12:07 when you see the door handle go down and I poke my head out and I'm looking up and down the hall. I asked if these cameras had sound and Tom said he had these cameras installed in the early 2000’s. If there was sound, there wasn’t anymore. We kept watching but nobody ever came to my door. Around 5 am the handle turned again and when the door opened, nothing. The door just stayed open until morning, when I woke up and closed it.

I felt like I was losing my mind. When Tom asked me why I left my door open I lied and said I must have been sleepwalking. That I was probably just overworked, I must have been imagining that someone knocked on my door. That's why when I poked my head out at midnight, the hall was empty. Tom reassured me I just needed a good night's sleep. He said my dad had mentioned something to him decades ago, some time after my mom passed about someone pranking him by knocking on our front door. Dad never told that to any of us kids. I tried to get more info but he said my dad just chalked it up to grief and didn't bring it up again. I thanked Tom for his time and he assured me he would be getting around to fixing my AC within the week.

Later that day on my way to work I called Lydia to see if she remembers dad mentioning anything to her. She had her hands full trying to convince her husband to take the kids to soccer practice so she could have her book club that afternoon so she was no help. That's when I had a crazy idea. That night after work I was going to read Shawn's journal. I don't know why but it made sense at the time. Dad mentioned to Tom about knocking, and maybe if Shawn wrote about it in his journal I would have something to at least help me feel a little less crazy. Work went by agonizingly slow, and when it finally came time to go home I began to feel sick. Painfully sick. The whole drive my stomach was turning. My head was pounding, I could barely keep my eyes open, I was able to make it home. Thankfully the door was locked. I remember locking it this morning. The first place I went when I got home was to the bathroom. I stayed by the toilet for what felt like most of the night. After I relinquished the 90-second rice I had for lunch into the bowl I finally felt well enough to stand.

There was another knock at the front door as soon as I got to my feet. I ignored it this time and walked out of the bathroom, straight past the door to the shrine in the corner of the room. I felt all the blood in my body freeze at once when I saw my missing tooth sitting right there on the cover of Shawn's journal. There was another knock on my apartment door just then. At this point I was thoroughly freaked out. I didn't feel safe. I had to get out of that apartment. I ran and grabbed my phone off the bathroom floor and rushed out the door.

When I yanked open the door I did it with such force I let it swing freely and slam into the closet door just behind it. Before I could even process what was in front of me I ended up rushing right into Lydia. She and I both fell to the ground and after checking to make sure she was okay I asked what she was doing knocking on my door so late. She said she tried calling but when she didn't get a response she got worried and came right over. Tom was nice enough to buzz her in and that when I didn't answer the door right away she was considering calling 911. I invited her in and when she walked through the door I immediately felt embarrassed. My apartment was a mess. I hadn't even noticed but I guess because I'm always so exhausted from work I just neglected to clean properly. She pretended not to notice and sat down on dads old recliner and asked what was wrong. I sat across from her on the couch and broke. I told her everything, mentioned the knocking, my tooth, the cameras, what Tom said about dad, and that I wanted to read Shawn's journal. I thought I must have been speaking gibberish though because the more I told her the more she got this bewildered look on her face. When I finally got done explaining everything that had been happening these last few nights she waited for me to breath before saying “Allan you aren't missing any teeth” my eyes opened so wide they just about popped out of my head. I immediately took my finger and felt the spot where my tooth had been previously missing. Sure enough I still had it. I stood up and hurried over to the corner and there was nothing on Shawn's journal. I stood there in shock for what felt like several minutes before I felt her hand gently press against my upper back. Without turning around I apologized for acting so crazy. After a few short seconds with no response I spun around and the apartment was empty. Lydia was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

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I didn't know what to do at this point. I crept up to the door and looked out the peephole and saw Lydia standing in the hallway again. Was that Lydia? Had she tried calling me? I ran to the bathroom and grabbed my phone. She must have heard me because she started calling out through the door. “Allan? Open the door Allan it's me. Please Allan let me in, I’m worried about you.” I looked at my phone and sure enough she had tried calling me several times. It was 8am. How? Was it all a dream? I checked my mouth and sure enough all my yellow teeth were all present and accounted for. I opened the door and invited her in. The face she made when I opened the door was that of pure revulsion. At this point I also noticed the smell. I had been blind to it until now, but it was coming from me. She asked if we could talk in the hall and I obliged. This time I didn't mention the knocking, Tom, dad, Shawn’s journals. I kept it all to myself. I played it off like I had been sick the night before and haven't been sleeping well. She told me I should schedule a doctor's appointment and after I told her I would we shared a quick hug before she had to go to work herself, she had just stopped in on her way. When I closed my apartment door I looked through the peephole to make sure she walked away. Once I was sure she was gone I broke down crying.

When I finally got myself together I decided to actually sit down and read Shawn's journal. Sure enough it was nothing exciting. I read the first few entries. Most just recollections about his days working, and stuff he wanted to talk to his therapist about. I must have gotten bored because I found myself skimming through most entries until I got to one talking about Lydia and I coming over for dinner. He mentioned how he felt bad his place was never clean. He showered but he still stunk, and how he felt like a burden for making us constantly have to check up on him. I remember thinking how much I loved having dinner with Shawn. Lydia would bring over steaks, I would grab a case of beer and we would sit down and have our Sunday dinners as a family, or what was left of it anyway.

When Lydia had her first son she wasn't able to come around as often. Or ever really. Then I started picking up more shifts at work to try and keep up with my rent increase and it suddenly dawned on me. Those were the last times I ever saw my brother alive, and the last time I actually had a home cooked meal. Whatever semblance of composure I had at this point snapped and I broke down again. How could I have been so blind. Shawn felt like a burden to us and we completely stopped visiting him. It wasn't long after I popped by for a surprise visit and to pitch the idea of moving in together so he wouldn't be so alone and that's when I found him. He left the front door unlocked, so when I opened the door I immediately smelled something awful. I called his name but there was no answer. I stepped into the apartment and made my way to his office. His computer was broken, it looked like he took a golf club to it, monitors had been thrown across the room and shattered. The keyboard and mouse dangled from the ceiling fan and his desk had been flipped up against the window. I poked my head into the bathroom and saw it was empty. When I reached the bedroom the door was locked. I knocked on the door and that's when I heard the gunshot. My heart immediately sank.

I knocked on the door… I flipped to the last entry of his journal. The only thing on the page was a short poem written in blood.

If on your door the devil knocks

Double, triple check your locks

For if you let the devil in

Your will to live, he’ll surely win

Dated…the day I found him.

I curled up on the floor, crying for what felt like hours. Even when the tears stopped, I stayed there on the floor silently wailing. My chest ached, my throat was dry, my eyes were bloodshot but I just laid there dry heaving, clutching the journal. I killed my brother, the thought replayed on loop. I kept reliving the moment in my mind for what felt like an eternity. After a while I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew I was woken up, by a knock at the door.

That was the last straw for me. I stood up and went to the door. I looked through the peephole. Nothing. I opened the door and the hallway was empty. I checked the time on my phone. 9pm. How? Where was the time going? I completely missed work today. I shut the door, double triple checked my locks, and put my back to the door and slowly slid down until I was sitting on the ground, with my head resting between my knees. Suddenly there was another knock. But it wasn't on the front door. It was coming from the closet directly to my right. It was coming from inside my apartment the whole time. Fear took over completely and I ran. Practically busted through my bedroom door, locked it, and pushed my bed in front of it so it couldn't be opened. I had let the devil in. That first night, after I got off the video call with Lydia. I heard the first knock while I was plastered. This was all my fault. All of it. Shawn needed me more than ever and I abandoned him. I knocked on his door and he blew his fucking brains out. I can't believe it. How long has it actually been? I don't remember getting Shawn's gun down from the storage space but I was holding it. Fully loaded. But I was waiting. Waiting for the devil to knock on my door. I waited for hours. Hours turned into days, turned into what felt like weeks. I knew the sun was rising and setting but I never kept track. I barely noticed the doorknob jiggle before there was a knock at the bedroom door and before I even processed what was going on I raised the gun to the door and fired. I wasn't going to take my own life. The devil wasn't going to steal my will to live. I heard a thud come from the other side of the door. I got him. I must have. I slowly got up and crept towards the bedroom door. That's when I heard a groan. I kicked my bed out the way, unlocked the door and threw it open. It was Tom. He was lying in a growing puddle of blood. The tool belt he had on meant he was coming to fix the AC. He must have thought I was at work. When the bedroom door was locked he tried being polite by knocking and I fucking shot him.

I slowly set the gun down, and the next however long was a blur. I called 911 and sat curled up in a ball until I heard sirens. The next thing I knew I was in handcuffs and being taken in for questioning. I didn’t struggle, I complied. When we got to the station they put me in an interrogation room. My hands cuffed to the table. It seemed unnecessary to me, but they saw me as a danger to others and I guess I was. I asked the cops what day it was and they told me. I don't know why but I began laughing. I couldn't stop laughing. That probably made me look insane but I couldn't process what I had just heard. The date they gave me was only 4 days after Shawn’s 36th birthday. Once I calmed down the interrogation began. After questioning me on what happened I told them I don't remember. They kept me overnight of course. The following day I came clean to the Police about the knocking, my time skips, black outs, not being able to remember things. My tooth falling out then showing up back in my mouth. They just looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I am crazy. The only person I told about the knocking was Tom and they were arranging his funeral as I sat in a holding cell. The cameras proved nothing except I like to open my door and look up and down an empty hallway. I spent that night staring at the ceiling. Trying to sleep seemed pointless. Every time I closed my eyes all I saw Tom sprawled out lying motionless outside my bedroom door.

Lydia posted my bail the following afternoon, believing it all to be an accident. She's been urging me to see a psychiatrist and get an evaluation before the trial. She's adamant that I have a good case for insanity and could get the help I need. I didn’t give her the whole story like I did to the cops. I didn’t want her to worry more than she already was about her psycho killer brother being chased around his apartment by some imaginary Devil. If I told her that she would have me committed to a loony bin. I told her I would call first thing in the morning, at that moment I just wanted to go home.

When I got up to my apartment the police tape was still over the door. I pulled it all down and reached out with the key to unlock the door. I froze. What if it's unlocked? This was a crime scene. Surely they would have locked it after they were done. I stood there with my hand hovering over the handle. I slowly let my hand rest down on the cold brass until it had no more give, closed my eyes and silently prayed. I gently pressed down on the handle hoping the lock would stop it from moving any further. The latch clicked and my heart fell through the floor. When I nudged the door forward with my foot I let it freely swing open. I took three steps into my apartment and looked around. This didn’t feel like home. Home was having dinner with Shawn and Lydia. Home was someplace you were meant to feel safe. I didn’t feel safe. I just got out of jail but I was still a prisoner in my own apartment. In my own mind. My eyes finally settled on the closet next to the front door. I couldn't bring myself to open it up. Whatever was in there I wanted nothing to do with. There was only one solution to free me from this torment.

That brings me to where I am now. All the doors are locked. The police confiscated Shawn’s gun for evidence so I’m having to improvise. As I'm writing this the knocking continues. Lydia I'm sorry. I don’t want you to have to keep worrying about me. I was responsible for Shawn’s death, and now Tom’s. I hope you read this and you can understand. I just hope you're not the one who finds me. And I hope that whatever you do, when the devil knocks you don't let him in.

2024 - V. Salvador.